


The Dinner

by reading_after_darkness



Category: Joker - Fandom
Genre: Cussing, F/M, Fluff and Smut, One Shot, Self-Insert, Swearing, joker x reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28373280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reading_after_darkness/pseuds/reading_after_darkness
Summary: One-shot 1350 words. What would Christmas dinner be like if Joker was part of your extended family? Luckily he is only linked by a marriage because there is no denying the chemistry between you...
Relationships: Joker/You
Kudos: 3





	The Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> “we doing this dance again?” You asked, with a rueful chuckle. He was an asshole, but hey, so were you. And you were drawn to trouble. Moth to flame. Always had been.

It happened once a year; awkward transactions with loopy uncles telling cockamamie tales, tolerating their jokes which could be either bland or out-right offensive. Cornered by Aunts who scrutinized every aspect of your physical, social and professional existence. Perhaps worst of all, sitting to dinner with your overbearing and entirely eccentric mother, whom you avoided with great tenacity, the other 364 days a year. 

At least the food was good. 

You sat in your designated spot at the far end, propping a frayed knee against the dinner table, foot resting on your chair. You picked at the ham on your plate. 

“Y/n! get your feet off the furniture!” Your mothers shrill voice cut through the cheer like an axe through jelly. Everyone paused, stared at you, then continued their yammering like nothing had happened. 

You groaned, putting your combat booted foot back on the floor. You stole a glance up the long table at the motley crew that shared your blood. Rolling your eyes, you turned your head to your plate before they could engage you in mind numbing conversation. 

Focus on the food, you’re just here for the food… 

“little shi-t” A gravelly voice taunted you from across the table. 

Your eyes darted up, locking with his coal pits. Irritation swelled in your chest; enduring dinner with the Adams-Family-Reincarnated was bad enough. But to be seated opposite this prick; your step cousin… shit, he was annoying. He licked at the lumpy scarring that ran up his cheeks, his head tilted in amusement.

“Well, if it isn’t the Clown Prince of Crime!” you mocked. “The fuck you looking at, J?” 

“look’n at you, doll”. The paint on his face cracked into grooves as his grin stretched. 

“You ever take that shit of your face?” you asked him. At least in part, you were genuinely curious. 

“nope.” He replied, he sounded as bored as you felt. Leaning back in his chair he ran a hand through his green hair. “Ya want me to take it off, hmm?” he probed, bouncing his eyebrows. 

“fuck off” you answered, tossing a piece of ham in his direction. 

“y/n!” Your mother cried out, “your mouth! honestly!” 

“Shit, Mother!” you thrust a finger at your step-cousin “he started it!” 

Your mums face softened as she turned her focus to The Joker. A fascinator perched on her crown and countless wines in, she looked like she crawled from the Mad Hatters lunch benefit.  
“We are just glad you’re a part of our family, now, Jay” she crooned. “Sure, my brother is an asshole! But marrying your mother was a great choice. You are a welcome- albeit quirky- addition to our humble, blended home.” The look on her face changed as she said this, her head tilting quizzically as though she had only just noticed J’s grease paint through the haze of her inebriation. 

You rolled your eyes. You were not nearly drunk enough to stomach this shit. 

“so…” your mum bubbled on “what are you doing for work now Jay?” she looked at him expectantly but her gaze passed through him and her wine glass leaned dangerously in her hand, threatening to purge its contents on the floor. 

The Joker leaned forward to rest on his elbows, the cuffs of his silk shirt rolled up, exposing his muscular forearms. He stared at her; blank faced, dark eyes guarding unthinkable secrets. 

“Self-employed” he oozed, then winked in your direction. 

“Just brilliant! Your mother cried. “Good for you, Jay!” Your mother laughed. 

The Joker smirked at you in satisfaction. 

“See darling” Your mum turned to you, fighting to stabilize her vision “even Jay is doing something meaningful with his life”. Then to Jay, slurring, “Our y/n, she lacks motivation”

“Seriously mum?” You pushed your chair back, gesturing sharply “It’s J, not, J a y. As in J for The. Fucking. Joker! And you want me to, what? Be more like him?!” You turned to leave, flipping J the bird as you went. WTF was wrong with your people? 

Reaching the balcony, you pulled a smoke from your jeans and sparked it, ready to enjoy a moments peace. 

No such luck. 

“Hey, Doll” came his raspy voice. 

You turned, glowering at J as his broad shoulders passed the threshold to the balcony, sliding the door shut behind him. 

“it’s tough being the, ah, black sheep.” He feigned sympathy as he joined you. 

His hands folded over the rail as he took in the view. You glanced down at his knuckles. They were marred with scars and bumps of various shapes and sizes, a map of his life. These were hands of a man forced to fight, literally and figuratively for every scrap the world had thrown him. You felt a wave of awe at that.

He turned his jet-black eyes your way, his tongue running across his lip. So much lurked in those inky depths, his eyes had their own gravitational force.

A smirk pulled at the edge of his lip causing a crease in his scarred cheeks, you were curious about his skin below the paint. His structure was beautiful, strong jaw line and brow.  
Right now, you felt swallowed by his gaze. 

“we doing this dance again?” You asked, with a rueful chuckle. He was an asshole, but hey, so were you. And you were drawn to trouble. Moth to flame. Always had been.

“Doll.” He purred. “You and I will be, ah, doing this dance, for-ever”. He linked a finger into your jeans and pulled you close, eyes wandering your lips “who else could handle the hea-t, hmm?”  
You weren’t sure if he was referring to your mutual pyromania… or bragging of his own sexual potency. Either way it was true; you could handle it. 

Even now, you could faintly smell the gasoline on him. Did he bath in the stuff? You had to admit it turned you on a little bit. Okay. A lot. 

“How do you get away with it? With them?” you asked, nodding your head towards the doors. 

“They. Don’t. Coun-t” he answered, standing over you, eyes heavy. With a flick of his thumb, he popped the button on your jeans “you coun-t” he added, as he slid his hand down the front of your pants. Surrendering to his magnetism, you leaned back against the rail, your eyes closing. 

He was right. They didn’t matter. 

He brought his body towards you, the tip of his nose brushing the skin of your neck as he breathed you in, his hand gently massaging you. 

“Ya know Doll, there, ah, is a spot in my organisation for a fire-friendly vixen like you. Ya interested? hmm?” he pushed deeper, your knees weakening. 

“shut-up” you whispered, not wanting to be distracted. 

“Ya mums righ-t, you go-t a mouth on you” He dropped his voice, barely audible, breath causing goosebumps on your skin, “I. like. Tha-t.”

He withdrew his hand and spun you, grasping your bottom in his palm for a quick squeeze before peeling your jeans towards your knees and closing the gap between you. 

“Oh J” you moaned. 

“y/n” he answered, one hand clutching your waist as he rocked into you, the other reaching to your front and gently stroking. Gradually increasing force until you cried out, which he followed with a few rough strikes of his hips. His body weight crumpled on you momentarily, then a growl of satisfaction as he withdrew. 

You caught your breath against the rail as he pulled your jeans back up, and planted a kiss on the back of your head. 

“You sure you won’t, ah, reconsider?” he asked, drawing a smoke from your pack which had dropped to the ground. “Rule Gotham? Be my queen, hmm?” 

“Fuck Gotham” you answered shaking your head. You had no intention of living out the rest of your days in this hole, to terrorize it or otherwise

J smirked, “That’s my girl”. 

“not your girl” you replied as you headed back inside, his smoldering gaze burning into your back. 

You had to admit, you’d miss him for the next 364 days of the year.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a funny idea really. Please let me know if you enjoy it! Thank you for reading


End file.
